


A Perfect Summer Day

by lielabell



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: 1890s, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lielabell/pseuds/lielabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for SummerSlash for PolyesterRage. She asked for ice cream, swimming and football. I took liberties with that prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Summer Day

The sun beats down on the tail end of a perfect summer day. On the boardwalk families stroll, parents hand-in-hand, children squealing with delight. The smell of fresh popped corn and ice cream cones fill the air, as pleasant to the nose as the sound of bells ringing and waves lapping are to the ear. Far below all this, away from the flashing lights and laughter, two boys lay nestled together like spoons in a drawer.

The sand is cool, refreshing after the muggy heat of the day. It sticks to their still damp skin, like filing on a magnet, but the boys don't care. They're content to have found a place to rest, a place where they can stretch out against each other without anyone seeing.

"I'm so full," one moans, his hand coming up to rest of the smooth expanse of his stomach.

"Shouldn't have had that last dog," the other one mumbles around a yawn, snuggling closer. "Knew it was a mistake before you bought it." Another yawn cracks his jaw and his eyes drift closed.

The first nods in agreement, oblivious to the fact that his companion cannot see it. He lets out a yawn of his own as his arms slip around the body of the boy in front of him and he nuzzles the other's soft brown curls. With a sigh, he forces himself to say, "Your parents are going to kill us if we don't get back soon."

"My parents can go hang for all I care."

This elicits an amused chuckle. "Always knew there was a rebel in you." Lips ghost over salty skin and teeth nip carefully at a slightly pink earlobe.

"Careful." The warning is followed by a shift of the body and suddenly they are pressed chest to chest, blue eyes to brown. A crooked grin lifts the lips of the offender, revealing a dimple.

"Aren't I always?"

Blue eyes twinkle and the other boy replies with noncommittal "mmmm" sound.

"Is that so?"

There is a gleam in brown eyes now and then the boys are shifting again, rolling over and around each other, laughing as they tussle, churning up the sand till their limbs tangle together. All too soon a winner emerges, his cocky grin back in place, while he pins the arms of the vanquished to the ground. Then callused hands slide up to cup that sunburned face and chapped lips meet. Tongues slip into mouths, slowly, as if exploring a new world. When they pull apart they are gasping for breath, eyes wide and smiles splashed across their faces.

All around them the world continuous on, waves crashing, seagulls calling. Far above them a child cries in the arms of his mother, his dropped ice cream melting into a sticky green puddle, and a father tenderly kisses the head of his sleeping daughter. The sun slowly sinks further down in the sky, marking the end of the day. But in the shade of the boardwalk nothing exists but a pair of lopsided grins and two hearts beating as one.


End file.
